Chapter Eight

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Chests heaving, Keith and Pidge tousled on the floor of the living room. Keith grasped Pidge's wrists in his hand, using the other to wrench the phone out of her fingers. He turned the phone's front camera so it could find Pidge's face, using the facial recognition to unlock it. As the small girl writhed beneath him, Keith found and deleted the picture she'd taken a few minutes before. 

"Hah!" Keith rolled off his friend, face flushed and hair messy. 

"Asshole!" Pidge cried, cradling her phone to her chest as if it were a child. "How dare you defile my baby!"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Pidge," He groaned, falling onto his back. "It's just a phone."

"Ah! Just a phone?! Just a phone?!" Her voice grew higher with every word. "This is my pride and joy! My soulmate!"

"Stop being such a drama queen. That's Lance's job," Keith chuckled from the floor, looking up at the ceiling and examining the cracks in the paint. 

"I am not a drama queen! I take offense to that!" Lance wailed, crossing his arms and huffing. 

"Case and point," Keith waved his hand, giggling. He sat up, grabbing the cup next to Lance and downing the contents in two gulps. A burning sensation filled his mouth afterwards, but the adrenaline from his wrestling match with Pidge kept him from thinking too much of it. 

"Oh... Yeah..." Lance turned to face Keith with a nervous look on his face. "Someone spiked the punch..."

Keith raised an eyebrow, tossing the empty cup aside. "And? I've had alcohol before, y'know." 

"What?" Allura questioned, breaking her kiss with Romelle to look at Keith with wide eyes. 

"My brother sometimes lets me have a beer or some wine on special occasions. Not enough to get drunk or anything, just a little buzzed," Keith didn't see what the big deal was. Having a drink every now and then in a controlled situation was okay, right?

"Oh... Okay..." Lance cleared his throat, standing up. "Well, it seems you have a tolerance... But I'm going to pour out the punch and make some more." The captain of the soccer team sped to the kitchen, confusing everyone in the room. 

"Weird..." Keith mumbled. He pushed the thought from his mind and he stood as well, walking over to the stereo. He plugged in his phone and pulled up Spotify, choosing a playlist that had the most popular songs. He knew he would despise the majority of the songs on the list, but he had the strangest urge to dance. He never danced. Though he had an amazing talent for it, his anxiety got in the way of doing it in front of anyone except Shiro. "Who wants to dance?!" He shouted, pressing play.

Music began to boom through the speakers, echoing off the walls and shaking the rafters. The crowd exchanged glances, staying in their spots for about a minute and a half before grinning and standing. They set down their drinks or food and found a dance partner. Keith helped push the furniture to the sides of the room, making a space for there to be a dance floor. 

Allura and Romelle were the first on the floor, smiling like idiots as they swayed their hips and tossed their heads to the beat. Soon enough, the rest of the team and the managerial group had joined in, whooping and hollering and singing along to the music. Keith stood off to the side, observing the crowd. 

"I thought parties weren't your thing," A low voice shouted above the music in Keith's ear, making him jump. 

"Th-they aren't!" He stammered, knowing even before he turned to look that the person beside him was Lance. "But just because I don't usually do something doesn't mean I'm not good at it."

"Hmm... Sure," Lance had a skeptical look in his eyes. "Whatever you say, honeybadger." He held out a hand to Keith, smirking slightly. "Dance with me?"

A deep blush covered Keith's pale cheeks. He averted his gaze and bit his lip. "I-I don't dance..."

"And when I invited you to my party, you said you didn't do those," Lance chuckled, still holding out his hand. "I wanna know what else you can do."

After a quick internal struggle about whether or not he should push Lance away, he nervously placed his hand in Lance's. Lance pulled Keith into the crowd, leading him to the center where Allura and Romelle were. Allura caught Keith's eye and winked at him, beaming. He smiled back slightly, still blushing. 

"Now then. C'mon and dance with me, honeybadger," Lance began to swing his hips in time with the music, instantly catching Keith's attention. He held out his hands, waiting for Keith to take him up on the offer. Keith gave a genuine smile and placed his hands in Lance's, allowing the alpha to bring him close and lead him in dancing. 

"How well can you dance, loverboy?" Keith challenged, letting his body loosen up as the bass vibrated in his chest. 

"Hmm... Better than you," Lance purred, leaning in close so Keith could hear him. 

"I doubt it," Keith replied, stepping back as he began to get into the music. The alcohol and the pheromones were getting to him, messing with his head. He didn't care that others could see him and he didn't care what they thought. 

"Wanna bet?" Lance raised an eyebrow as he spun around, the lights reflecting in his bright eyes. 

"Show me what you've got," Keith threw down the gauntlet, raising his arms above him and tossing his head to the beat, hair flying. 

"A'ight! Everyone back up!" Lance commanded, using a loud voice to get everyone to listen. Within seconds, a circle had opened up, giving the two room to have a dance off. They all bounced on their heels to the music, smiling and panting. 

"You first," Keith stood back, arms crossed and a hip popped to one side. 

Lance chuckled, shaking his head as he took the floor. He closed his eyes, staying still for a few moments as he tapped his foot to the new song. He opened his eyes again and threw himself onto the floor, whipping his body around in incredible break-dancing moves. Keith watched with his mouth open, unable to avert his gaze. The song ended and Lance sprung up off the floor, sweat making his hair stick to his skin. 

"Can you do better than that?" Lance tilted his head cockily, stepping back to the edge of the circle. 

"Watch and see," Keith took Lance's spot and did the same thing that Lance did, closing his eyes and tapping his foot. He smiled as he listened to the song. He couldn't break-dance to save his life, but that wasn't what he was good at. He was good at the kind of dancing you might see at a club. 

He began his routine by gyrating his hips and kicking out his legs, keeping his eyes closed as he let the music wash over him. As the beat sped up, he began to Pop and Lock and moved his body in a way that made him seem to be made of water. Lance, similarly to Keith, couldn't look away. He kept his eyes on the talented omega, watching his every move. The song came to a close and Keith finished with a spin, his hair flying out around him. He opened his eyes again, sweaty and breathing hard. The crowd was completely silent for a few moments before erupting into applause and cheers. Keith blushed deeply, scratching the back of his neck and smiling shyly. 

"Was I really that good?" He chuckled, peering up at the group through his eyelashes. 

"Holy fucking shit, man!" Lance cried, laughing. "You killed it! That was amazing!"

Keith didn't know what to say. He stood still, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Lance had just complimented him on his dancing. "Oh... Th-thanks..." 

"Damn, son," Lance breathed, shaking his head with a grin. "You definitely beat me. By a long shot. You looked so awesome. No wonder you're so good at soccer." 

Keith bit his lip, looking down and fidgeting with the hem of his flannel. "Thanks."

"No problem, man. Anyone want some food?" Lance called, turning to the kitchen. 

Keith turned the opposite way, up the stairs to a vacant room. He opened the door to the nearest room, sitting down on the bed. He figured out that it was Lance's room from the blue sheets and comforter, along with the soccer posters on the baby blue walls. He couldn't help but smile, looking around. With a sigh, he flopped back onto the bed, tired from interacting with so many people and from the dancing. He turned on his side, eyes closed. He breathed in the scent of Lance, comforted by the smell. Lance smelled like Fall. Fallen leaves that he would rake up into a pile and cannonball into. Fresh maple syrup with undertones of cinnamon. Without realizing, he pulled one of Lance's pillows to himself, burying his face into it and taking deep breaths. 

Soon enough, he was asleep, curled up on Lance's bed with smudged eyeliner and shoes on. 

((The next chapter will be angsty. I hope you enjoyed this chapter with the dance-off! Thank you for the support! - Wolfie))


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